Little Man,

 

Last night as I tucked you into bed, I pulled out your photo book from the year you were one-year old. We sat down on your bed, you looked at the picture of little you on the front, and promptly burst into tears.

 

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” I asked.

 

“I don’t want to grow up!” you cried, pointing to the picture. “I just want to be little!”

 

You are wise beyond your years…

 

I grew up more like your older sister: always anticipating the next birthday, another year added to my age which meant I was more grown up and ever close to actually being grown up. Instead, you enjoy being whatever age you are. You have loved being four. You are loathe to turn five. If I could keep you four forever I would. It’s a really good age.

 

This past year you have grown so much. You can ride your bike without training wheels. A couple of weeks ago, you told me you didn’t need your booster at the table anymore. You were just barely tall enough to ride the waterslide at the waterpark. You’ve started Kindergarten and do well at your schoolwork, although having to put every word you read into a sentence does take a while some days! After trying to adjust to Ellyson, you’re figuring out how to play with her. She’s so happy when she can play with “Brudda”. And you’re never happier when Emry plays with you.

 

Trying to find things for you and Emry to do on cold days, my old Wii came out. Although I will never enjoy video games like you do, I do like to watch you figure out how to work the game and achieve the goals. Somewhere inside that busy mind of yours, you do think. I was very surprised when I sat down to play checkers with you how well you think about what will happen if you move a certain piece. Now we’re learning chess!

 

I love the funny things you say and when you stop to very seriously explain something to me. But my favorite memory of the year was in church one Sunday morning as you wiggled about trying to find something to keep you occupied during the sermon. I was pretty sure you weren’t listening at all to the sermon from 1 Corinthinas, but you suddenly stopped, looked at me, and asked, “Mama, what does it mean to be saved?” 

 

I pray, little man, that the many pieces you learn at home from Bible reading and the lessons at church will someday soon come together and, by God’s grace, you will know what it means to be saved. Because, sadly, you have to grow up. And while I hope many great things for you, the one I hope the most is that you will know Jesus as Savior.

 

I love you, little man! Happy 5^thBirthday!

 

Love, Mama